Deep in the evenings he worked them, night after night, while one by one they quit, citing his obsession with a premise that would never bear fruit as reason.
And yet one stayed on, a silent man with a stoic countenance and hands as steady as his stride, a man who stayed, not for the promise of success, but to admire real drive and passion that so often was lacking in himself.
Image by Michal Matczak
(third artwork down/dirigible)
This is just a piece of a larger image, though I didn’t know that when I wrote the story. So while it’s technically an airship, I viewed it as a workshop instead and went with that idea.
What would your two line story be?